


Winter's Lover

by Walkinthegarden



Series: Winter [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 20:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinthegarden/pseuds/Walkinthegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willas has always loved Sansa. From the moment his mother stepped out of the wheelhouse with Sansa perched high on her hip, the future Lord of the Reach became enamored with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter's Lover

Willas has always loved Sansa. From the moment his mother stepped out of the wheelhouse with Sansa perched high on her hip, the future Lord of the Reach became enamored with her.

 

She’d been so small and delicate, hiding her face in his mother’s neck. He’d convinced his father a moon’s turn previous to host a ball in young Lady Sansa’s honor. He spent the night with her on his arm, dancing with her and introducing her to every Lord and Lady that had come to attend. He had wanted them to love her as a girl, and not resent her as a hostage.

 

Over time he grew to love her even more. He enjoyed sitting beside her at her lessons, whispering into her ear when she seemed unsure of her answers. Some days he would come and collect her from his sister Margaery and take her to see the horses. He promised her that one day he would teach her to ride.

 

The day of his accident, he heard Sansa’s screams. She chanted his name desperately, _“Willas! Willas! Willas!”_ The pain was immense, but he focused on her voice, holding onto it for as long as he could before the pain overcame him.

 

In the long year of recovery, Sansa stayed by his side. More often than not she would be in his solar if not in his bed. If he slept she’d sit quietly near the corner of his bed and play with her dolls or practice her sewing. Some days he’d wake to see her sitting in the lounge chairs with Garlan or Loras while on others he’d see her on the terrace with his sister. On his worst days she’d sit right beside him, holding his hand tightly in her own, laying on his chest and singing softly to him while others worked on his leg.

 

When the attack happened, they say it is the first time Willas ever lost his temper. He had felt powerless when he awoke to Sansa’s screams. As he’d had a particularly bad day with his leg prior to falling asleep and with no one to help him into his chair, there was nothing he could but sit and listen. Garlan came in later, still covered in the blood of the Lannister bannerman, in order to tell him what had occurred. The next day Sansa had looked up at him with large and terrified eyes when he attempted to touch her shoulder in comfort. The fear in her eyes had set something off in him and when he retreated to his study he proceeded to destroy it. Every volume, every parchment, and every inkwell was destroyed. He’d failed, as her protector, as her friend, and as her brother.

 

It took a bit of time, but slowly she learned to accept his touch once again. It was a particularly bad day for his leg and as he lay in bed, withering and groaning from the pain, he saw Sansa standing in his doorway. Slowly she had stepped inside, watching him with tears in her eyes. She had always laid beside him on bad days, holding his hand and singing softly to sooth him. As the pain in his leg intensified, he couldn’t help the scream that came from his throat. The look of hesitation on her face never left her, but something inside her must have snapped at the sound. In a moment she was at his side, on her knees and bent over him with his hand clenched in hers. _“I am here Willas, I am here.”_

As time continued to pass, Willas began to see the girl he’d long considered a sister in a new light. He began to admire the way her hair framed her lovely face, the stitching of her gown around her small waist, the way her eyes light up whenever Loras sneaks up behind her, and the soft sound of her laughter. Slowly the pleasure he felt at having her lay by his side became improper. She never saw him as a cripple. She was always quick to defend him against those less kind and was always happy to accompany him to every event hosted at Highgarden.

 

When the invitation came that invited Sansa to the Capitol, Willas had trouble hiding his feelings. There is only one reason to receive an invite from the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. He had heard the rumors, that the King was looking for a bride for his son and heir. If the trip was successful, he knew Sansa would never return to Highgarden and the very idea made him sick. He swallowed his feelings as she kissed his cheek goodbye. If only he could have protected her, taken the fear from her eyes.

 

The day Sansa returned, his mother approached him. She asked him if he would be opposed to the idea of marrying Sansa. He knew his mother knew of his growing feelings, but still he could not agree. He would not force Sansa to marry him. After all she had been through he would not have her marry him if she did not desire to.

 

He waited two years before approaching her. He spent more time with her in those months. It was easy to fall completely in love with her in that time. On a good day for his leg, he walked towards her, a beauty among the roses. She was sitting on her legs, picking roses to add to a crown she had mentioned she was making for Margaery’s wedding. _“Willas_!” she had cried out in delight, _“You are walking so well.”_ The smile she’d given him had the strength of a thousand suns. He had sat down beside her, smiling at her in return. He took a deep breath before he asked her if she’d do him the honor of being the future Lady of the Reach. _“Oh Willas,”_ she’d breathed, _“I would love to be your wife.”_

In the year that passed, he sat beside her, giving input whenever she asked as she planned their wedding. In that year he watched the Sansa he’d learned to accept as fragile and nervous come out of her shell. He saw her befriend the Princesses Rhaenys and Daenerys, who came often with Margaery on visits to Highgarden. He watched as her laughter became freer, her smile become lighter, and her touch become softer. She was finally healing, and he couldn’t be happier.

 

When the wedding grew closer, Willas’s heart ached at the obvious change in his wife to be. She seemed to regress before his eye. The nervous and paranoid girl he’d thought gone returned in full force. Countless times Margaery had to bring Sansa to him, so that he could dry her tears and whisper words of reassuring into her hair.

 

The day of the welcome feast before their wedding, Margaery had come to him, whispering in his ear that Sansa had thrown a fit while in the company of the father Sansa’d never had the chance to know. He spent the rest of the night sitting beside Sansa at a watering hole not far from the gardens, accompanied by Garlan, Loras, and Margaery. They’d taken a silent vigil with her nearly the whole night, watching as the girl they all loved resembled a child as she played absentmindedly with the water. It had broken all their hearts, but none more than his. He worried for her.

 

On the day of their wedding, Willas had been a nervous wreck. It was still hard to believe that a girl as beautiful, clever, and sweet as Sansa chose to love a broken man such as himself. Margaery had been quick to point out that Sansa was a broken as well, that perhaps they drew comfort from one another because of that brokenness they shared. But all nerves had left him when he saw her come through the doors in the gown of ivory lacey on the arm of her father. She had looked nervous herself, but when their eyes met she gave him the loveliest smile he had ever seen. All they both saw after that was one another. When they kissed, it was all his strength to pull away, to return to the cruel world instead of remain in the beautiful one when their lips were together.

 

Sansa had trapped his heart the moment his mother stepped out of the wheelhouse. While first he had loved her as another sister, it had been very easy to love her even more as a woman who would someday become his wife. He took her for all she was, in sickness and in health. There was no one he would ever love more. She completed him, and he would love her from this day until his last.


End file.
